


Upside Down & Ass Backwards

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-16
Updated: 2003-02-16
Packaged: 2019-05-30 23:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15107105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh. Donna. The Bear arrives.





	Upside Down & Ass Backwards

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Upside Down & Ass Backwards**

**by: spitzthecat**

**Pairing(s):** Josh/Donna  
 **Rating:** ADULT  
 **Disclaimer:** Not mine, never gonna be mine. Anything you recognize from pop culture isn't mine either. If it was, would I still be this deep in debt? Really, if you want my crappy ass job, truck payment and two emotionally disturbed cats you're welcome to them.  
 **Summary:** Josh. Donna. The Bear arrives. The Joshua Monologues #034  


I�m scrambling around getting ready for my 9 a.m. briefing, when Carol grabs me by the arm.

�Leo wants you in his office right now.�

�I�m going to be late for the briefing,� I tell her.

She shrugs at me. �You�re supposed to make them wait.�

Margaret opens the door without hesitation. Leo�s on the phone, so I make a gesture asking if he wants me to leave until he is done.

He shakes of his head slightly. In just a few seconds Sam and Toby join us; the President and First Lady enter from the Oval Office right afterward.

�Okay� okay� Right. We�ll keep it as quiet as we can.�

Leo hangs up the phone. �That was Josh.�

It�s about time he turned up. He missed the 7:30 staff meeting and nobody has heard from him or Donna since they went home around 7:30 last night.

�Evidently, Donna went into labor about 6:30 this morning.�

We all trade glances. 

Donna�s not due until July 29th; today is June 17th. 

My math skills aren�t great, but even I can figure she�s not due for six weeks.

�Were they able to stop it?� Abbey asks worriedly.

Leo has sort of a half smile on his face. �It progressed a little fast for that.�

Only Abbey, Leo and the President, know anything about the whole labor and delivery process. 

Although Josh has been trying to educate Sam. 

Primarily by grossing him out with graphic descriptions of what he�s been watching on TV since Donna got him addicted to The Learning Channel. 

�How fast?� The First Lady transitions into doctor mode.

�They didn�t make it to the hospital.�

�She had it in the car?� Sam pales a little at the thought.

Toby�s forehead scrunches up as he tries to determine the logistics of Donna having a baby in Josh�s Mustang.

Leo shakes his head, the halfsmile now a fullblown grin. 

�CJ, don�t be surprised if you get a question about a 911 call from Josh and Donna�s address this morning.�

�Leo, just spill what you know,� the President demands.

�Josh didn�t tell me everything, but what I got was this: Donna was up all night with lower back pains and some other stuff. Right before 6:30 this morning, her water broke. Donna kept insisting she needed to push and Josh had the presence of mind to call 911. After he explained the situation, they told him he needed to, I don�t know, check something.�

I�d like to mention, for the record, that all of the men are the same shade of green right now.

�Josh looks and sees something other than the head.�

The First Lady groans. �Oh, no.�

Leo continues with a laugh, �Josh said something else, but that�s the gist of it.�

�I don�t understand. Don�t they come out head first?� Sam asks.

Abbey nods. �They are supposed to come out head first, face down. Sounds like the littlest Lyman was in a bit of a hurry.�

That comment gets a fair amount of laughter before Dr. Bartlet finishes. �There are some serious complications that can go along with it. How are they?�

�They�re checking out Donna and he�s not sure about the baby.�

�She was able to deliver?� Abbey sounds amazed.

�Josh claims it was the most disgusting thing he�s ever done in his life. I have no details, but the kid beat the paramedics by a full thirty minutes. As Josh put it: it came out upside down, ass backwards, in a hell of a hurry. They got to the hospital shortly after eight. He just had time to call.�

�Am I supposed to announce this?� I ask, checking my watch.

�Not unless someone asks. Try to keep as much of a lid on it until the afternoon brief as you can. Josh says they haven�t let him see the baby since they got to the hospital. He�s a little freaked.�

***

6:30 a.m.

We�ve been up all night. Donna couldn�t get comfortable. Her back hurt more than normal and some other female stuff I�m not comfortable talking about. 

Since Donna was up all night, I was up all night with her, massaging her aching back, and her feet, and her ankles.

It�s been an easy pregnancy, aside from Donna�s, and by extension my, not being able to sleep comfortably. She barely had any morning sickness; there haven�t been any complications, except she hasn�t gained very much weight, only 20 pounds and 8 of it in the last month.

However, the ultrasound last week showed the little bear is developing normally, it�s just a little on the small side. 

It gets that from my side. The largest Lyman baby on record was my sister, Joanie. She weighed in at 6 pounds even. I was 5 pounds, 6 ounces. Moss babies are huge from what I�ve been told. Donna claims she was 9 pounds, 4 ounces and that�s average.

Due to my wife�s incredible planning skills, we�re ready to have this kid. The fact that I�m involved in Donna�s �Plan to Have This Baby Smoothly� does make me somewhat nervous, because, you know, the gods of planning hate me. 

The nursery is finished. I painted it yellow last month. A bright, BigBird yellow that really doesn�t go with my skin tone. At least, that�s what CJ claimed on the next Monday morning when I still had some of it in my hair. The last of the furniture was delivered this weekend.

The second vehicle finally got delivered Friday, six to eight weeks turned into almost twelve. 

I can�t tell you how happy I was to discover Donna decided on a Trailblazer instead of a minivan.

Not that I�ve driven it, yet.

Her back must feel better because Donna has me by the ear at the moment, dragging me back to bed.

�I need you,� she informs me, reaching into my boxers. Spongebob responds to her touch, despite the fact that I need to be in the office in an hour. 

Her hand cradling Gary and Patrick convinces me I can be late today.

We face one another on the bed. I ease my thumb across her nipple, following in with a kiss. The Wonder Twins have been very tender the past few days, so I�m wary, stopping when she gasps.

�Do they hurt?�

�A little,� she admits.

�Just the nipples?�

I have been fascinated by the changes in Donna�s body. Her breasts are larger, heavier and they started leaking a thick yellow gunk occasionally. I learned that the hard way a couple of weeks ago when I ended up with a mouthful of something extremely nasty.

To my great delight, her belly button went from an innie to an outie. Moving south from her breasts, I spend some time playing with it, rubbing my hand around her stomach, downwards, finally caressing her inner thighs.

Her hips shifting towards me, Donna begs, �Touch me, Joshua.�

Welltrained husband that I am, I slip my hand into Squarepants. Flicking my fingers over her clit in passing, Donna cries out, telling me she�s ready by rolling onto all fours.

I kneel behind her and enter her slowly. Pushing in too deep makes me nervous, like I might break something. I know intercourse is okay and everything; I just use shorter, quicker strokes instead.

This morning she wants all of me. �Josh, deeper. Please.�

Don�t have to tell me twice. I do as she says and push in further. My climax is just starting when I feel a sudden rush of wetness around me. At the apex of my stroke, I can feel something move against Spongebob.

***

I have never seen Josh move so fast in my life. 

One second, he�s making love to me; the next he�s standing by the bed in abject terror.

I�ll attribute it to the fact that my water just broke.

�Donna?� Josh squeaks.

Before I can answer, I am wracked by a contraction that lasts way longer than it should at this stage.

Oh no. 

Last night wasn�t cramps.

It was labor.

�Donna?� Josh asks again. He�s not squeaking anymore, but he still looks slightly petrified.

I take a deep breath and start to count.

After only a minute the next contraction hits.

�It�s time, isn�t it?�

He figured that out all by himself. If it didn�t hurt so much, I�d be proud. 

Pulling his boxers on, Josh takes my hand and breathes with me. All those episodes of �A Baby Story� have evidently paid off, since our childbirth class isn�t until this weekend. Last week, we toured the obstetrics ward at GW and I preregistered us because Josh can�t remember our insurance information on a good day.

The third contraction brings an overwhelming urge to push.

And to stand up.

Josh unquestioningly helps me to an upright position. I squat with my lower back resting against the edge of the bed and my hands gripping Josh�s shoulders.

***

The contractions are about sixty seconds apart, lasting about two minutes each. This isn�t good. Donna�s next scream prompts me to grab the cordless and dial 911.

�911. What is the nature of your emergency?�

A woman operator. 

Thank you, God. 

I couldn�t handle explaining this to another guy.

�My wife is in labor.� 

I can do this. 

I can stay calm. 

�How far apart are the contractions?� 

�About sixty seconds. Her water just broke.�

During the fourth contraction, Jan introduces herself, verifies our address and dispatches an ambulance.

�Josh, it�s a busy morning, it might take a while for them to show up. I need you to check something for me.�

Oh God. 

�What?� I squeak.

�Look and see if the baby is crowning.�

I can do this. 

Since Donna�s standing, or squatting really, I have to lie on the floor to look. 

I don�t think that�s what I�m supposed to see.

�Um, Jan?�

�Can you see the baby�s head?� she asks.

�No,� I reply. �But I can see a foot.�

The only sound is of Jan flipping pages in a book. �Grab it.�

�WHAT!?�

�Grab the foot, but be gentle.�

�Do I need to wait for a contraction?�

�The book doesn�t say.�

The absurdity of the situation makes me laugh.

***

I�m dying up here and Josh is laughing.

Oh, Jesus, it hurts. I fumble for Josh�s hand, squeezing it for dear life.

***

Donna has one of my hands and shows no intention of letting go, leaving me to cradle the phone to my ear with my shoulder so I can do something I never thought I�d have to.

When the next contraction starts, I reach in there and snag my kid by the ankle.

�Okay, I�ve got a foot. What next?�

***

He�s got a WHAT?!

�Josh?!�

***

�Carefully, slowly and gently, ease it towards you. Can you feel the other one?�

I have to let go of Donna�s hand to feel around in there. 

Should my whole hand fit up there?

�Yeah� Okay. I�ve got them both.�

***

What the hell is going on down there? 

***

�The cord is pinching!�

Wow. Where the hell did that come from? When the hell did I learn enough to know that?

Jan starts to sound stressed at this point. �Take your free hand and try to give it some more room.�

My other hand is numb from Donna�s death grip, but I free it and squeeze two fingers between my son�s head and Donna, one on either side of the cord, because that seems like the logical thing to do. I pull outward as much as I think I can without hurting anything. 

I know it�s a boy because not only is my son coming out upside down, he�s ass backwards. I�m looking at his little Spongebob instead of his butt while I�m holding him in one hand, trying to support his neck.

�She needs to really push with the next one, Josh. It�s probably going to hurt.�

***

�Donna?�

I�m gasping for oxygen. 

I know for a fact it isn�t supposed to go like this. 

I�m glad I can�t really hear what Josh is saying to the person on the phone. 

I�m sure I�d just panic all that much more.

�Push really hard with the next one, babe,� he tells me.

�Okay.�

***

She does like I ask and pushes with all her might. 

I pull with my fingers a bit more and the little dude�s head pops out.

�Wow.�

�Josh?�

�Hey, Jan?�

�Yeah, Josh?�

�I�m a dad.�

�Is he breathing?�

The bear decides now is a perfect time to announce his presence in the world with a mammoth wail. 

Wow.

He got those lungs from his mother.

Jan chuckles on the other end of the line. �I guess that�s a yes. The paramedics just radioed in. They�re still a ways out. Don�t cut the cord, but wrap him up in a blanket so he doesn�t get cold. Okay? It�s not a bad idea for your wife to try breastfeeding him right away either. That will help deliver the placenta.�

�Thanks, Jan. I�m gonna put the phone down,� I tell her.

***

The baby is still attached to the cord when Josh lays him on my chest. He helps me settle back on a few pillows. 

�He�s a boy.�

�Yeah.� 

I�m mesmerized by our son. He�s incredibly tiny, but he has ten fingers and ten toes. Josh goes into our bathroom and comes out with a few towels to wrap him in. With a wet cloth, he reaches over and wipes the gunk from his son�s head.

�You did great,� he tells me, pulling the comforter around me.

I look down into the baby�s vivid blue eyes and see an ancient wisdom reflected back at me. The sound of sirens filters slowly into my brain and a knock at the front door finally breaks the trance.

Josh lets the paramedics in and they go about the business of loading my son and I onto a gurney. 

***

As the paramedics start to wheel them out, I instinctively grab my keys, phone and wallet, stopping only to slip a pair of sandals on my feet as I sprint out the door. Fortunately, neither of the two EMTs prevent me from climbing into the ambulance.

It isn�t until one of them hands me a jacket I realize I�m wearing nothing but boxers.

�This your first?� the guy who gave me his coat asks.

I nod, unable to take my eyes off him, snuggled in his mother�s arms. �He�s six weeks early.�

�He looks pretty good for being a bit early,� the other guy says.

***

The minute we enter the emergency room, they stick a clipboard under my nose. 

In that instant, I lose sight of Donna. 

Holding my bloody hands up, I get out of filling in the forms. 

The admitting nurse asks for my name, Donna�s name and if we�re preregistered. 

Donna did that last week, when we toured the OB floor so I wouldn�t have to remember anything other than those three things when we showed up here.

I think it�s the smartest thing she�s ever done.

Thanking the EMTs, I take off down the hall in the direction the nurse points me. Hitting the maternity ward, I skid to a stop at the desk. A middleaged nurse grabs me by the arm and guides me further down the hall, into an empty room. 

�Stay put. When they�re done checking your wife out, they�ll bring her here.�

�What about��

�The baby went to the neonatal intensive care unit so they can make sure he�s okay.�

Alone, with nothing to do, I am suddenly exhausted. My gaze falls on the clock. 8:30. 

Shit. 

Pulling my phone out, I call Leo.

***

I don�t get Dr. Williams, but the guy who sees me is pretty cool. After helping me deliver the placenta, he gives me a quick once over and seems pretty pleased.

�Just a little ripping, Donna. Nothing major. I�m going to put in a couple of stitches, then they�ll take you to your room. Little guy decided to come in a hurry, huh?�

�Just like his father,� I groan. 

�Well, Dad did a pretty good job. Breech deliveries can be complicated.�

Breech? So that�s what Josh meant by he had a foot. 

�Dad� is wearing a hole in the floor when they take me to my room, looking truly pathetic. 

He�s wearing boxers, an EMT jacket and sandals; he hasn�t shaved; his hair is standing on end; and he�s got a halfdried bloody goo all over himself.

He looks over when the door opens and the worry lines fade slightly. I�m sure I don�t look much better than he does, but I at least got one of those hospital gowns to put on after they helped me clean up.

I settle into the bed and Josh sits down next to me, taking my hand

�You okay?� he asks.

�Pretty much,� I nod. �Kind of sore though. They had to put in a few stitches.�

�Sorry.�

�Josh, it�s not uncommon.�

�Oh.�

***

There are a couple of reporters who look like they might have it, but I avoid calling on them and make a clean escape.

�Carol, do I have an hour or so free?� I ask when I get back to my office.

�You going up to GW?�

�Margaret is truly frightening. You do know that, right?�

�Hey, we�re the ones who have to shuffle the schedules around.�

�Clear the Sisterhood an hour at noon tomorrow. We need to have an emergency baby shower. Who won the pool, by the way?�

Carol rifles through my appointment book. �You have ninety minutes at noon today, noon tomorrow should be okay, and,� she pulls out an envelope with a calendar attached. �Hey, this is not fair.�

�Who?� I look over her shoulder. �You�re kidding.�

�You know when Josh picked his day he claimed the kid would be early.� Carol hands me the envelope. �Do we know if it was a boy or a girl?�

�Leo didn�t say. I don�t have any firm details.�

Sam comes bouncing up to Carol�s desk. �Hey, are you going over?�

�About noon. You coming along, Spanky?�

***

It�s almost an hour before a doctor comes to talk to us. Josh is getting panicky, mostly from lack of information, and he�s pacing.

I�ll admit to not being much better, but I did do a significant amount of research on premature infants. 

I had a hunch I�d need to know with all of Josh�s prenatal encouragement.

�Mr. and Mrs. Lyman?� the woman asks, entering the room.

�Josh,� Josh points at himself and then me. �Donna.�

�I�m Dr. Peterson. I�ve got some good news and a couple of questions.�

Fortunately, Josh ended his pacing next to the bed, so when his knees give out, he lands on the edge of it.

�Your son is a tad on the small side at 4 pounds even. The EMTs who brought you in said he was breastfeeding when they got there?�

We both nod, he latched right on. �The 911 operator suggested it,� Josh explains.

�No problems with it?� Dr. Peterson asks, making some notes.

�No,� I answer. �He seemed to do okay.�

I had done plenty research on breastfeeding as well. I was a bit surprised when he took to it so easily, but I refuse to look a gift horse in the mouth.

�He seems to be breathing fine on his own and everything seems within normal ranges. The only concern we really have is he�s having some trouble maintaining his body temperature. That�s not unusual in preemies, though. Where you planning on breastfeeding?�

I nod in response, unable to voice a simple yes. 

Intellectually, I know the survival rate for infants born at 34 weeks is over 96% and while his birth weight is low, it�s not dangerously low. 

Emotionally, I�m a hormonal basket case.

�We�re going to keep him in NICU for a couple of more hours, then bring him down to you and see if he�ll breastfeed again. After that, we�ll play it by ear and see how he does.�

***

It�s almost noon when they bring the bear back to us. 

Aside from being a little undercooked, he seems okay. 

The minute they hand him over, he starts nuzzling for my nipple. 

A breast man, just like Dad.

Josh helps me get the hospital gown open and the little sucker latches on again. It feels weird, but comforting. 

Content we seem to have this under control, the medical staff hands Josh some papers and everyone leaves. A nurse tells us on her way out that she�ll be back to check on us shortly.

�He�s a shrimp,� Josh announces, reading from one of the forms. �4 pounds. 14 inches.�

�Thought up a name yet?�

I gave Josh naming rights in a moment of weakness several months ago.

�You didn�t happen to check the clock when he came out did you?� he asks, looking up from the birth certificate and smiling at me. �I was a little busy.�

�And I wasn�t? Guess, Joshua.� I�d smack him, but my hands are full.

Signing the form with a flourish, he hands it over for my inspection. �David Dakota Lyman,� I murmur, hugging David a little tighter.

�We are not calling him Davey,� Josh says. He crawls onto the bed next to me and kisses his son on the head, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

Josh begins a quiet, onesided dialogue with his son, lightly stroking the boy�s full head of hair with his finger.

***

A knock on the door interrupts our first peaceful interlude of the day. Before we can answer it, CJ sticks her head in. David is still going to town on his lunch, so I get up to greet her. 

�You look like shit.�

�Thanks, CJ. I love you, too.�

She hands me a thin envelope. �Shut up and be nice, you won the damn baby pool. Buy some damn clothes or something.�

�Come on, Claudia. Rubber Ducky boxers are all the rage.� I�m still wearing what I arrived at the hospital in.

CJ shakes her head at me. �You can afford clothes, now. The pool was over $30,000. Most of the White House staff, over half of Congress, the Press Corps, lobbyists, everyone wanted in since it was only $20. We had to come up with three levels of tiebreakers. You, mi amour, were the only person to pick June 17th. The IRS already knows about it.�

Wow.

Sam is with her and between the two of them, they must have bought half the gift shop.

�So?� Sam prods, setting flowers and balloons on a table near the bed.

�So, what?� There are too many things he could want to know and I�m too exhausted to try and figure it out.

�What happened?� CJ clarifies. She sits down next to Donna and David, who has decided he�s full and wants to be burped.

We give them the Readers� Digest version of the morning�s events. After getting the gory details, they both head back to work, CJ promising that she�ll swing by our apartment and grab the gobag Donna had packed and I forgot.

Once they�re gone, Donna and David both drift off to sleep. 

With nothing better to do, I decide it�s time to call the grandparents. Pulling out my cell, I start flipping through the preprogrammed numbers.

***

I�m trying to audit the accounting records of my largest client when the phone rings.

�Deb Moss,� I hit the speaker phone button.

�Deb? It�s Josh.� My soninlaw sounds exhausted and excited at the same time. I wonder what he could want; they were here only10 days ago for Freddy�s graduation.

�What�s wrong?�

�It�s a boy.�

They must have had another ultrasound.

�When did you find out?�

�About 6:30 this morning when he decided he was done being cooped up inside of Donna.�

I look at the clock; it�s a little after 12:30.

�And?�

�He�s a little undercooked, but pretty okay. David Dakota. 4 pounds, 14 inches.� The exhaustion in his voice gives way to fatherly pride.

�How�s Donna?�

�Good. They�re both asleep.�

***

I give Deb my cell number and then call Mom.

�Hello?�

�David Dakota Lyman. 4 pounds, 14 ounces, 6:30 this morning.� I announce with no preamble.

�You�re joking?� Mamme asks in disbelief.

�Nope. You�re a grandmother.�

You can hear my mother screaming in Alaska.

***

Josh is sprawled out in a chair looking at me with an odd expression on his face when I open my eyes.

�What?�

�Can I hold him?� he asks.

I nod and he slips out of his chair and onto the bed with me. David is still asleep when I hand him, and his collection of blankets, over to Josh. He leans back against the headboard of the bed, snuggling our tiny creation in the crook of his arm. After a moment, I curl myself around them, resting my head on Josh�s shoulder. 

�He looks like you,� I whisper.

David is a dead ringer for his father: his full head of hair is the same curly, dark stuff Josh has; the same nose; when he yawns you can see little dimples.

Josh snickers, �Poor kid.�

Before long all of us are asleep.

***

Donna has just gotten into the shower when the Sisterhood arrives in full force.

My son and I are dissecting the box score from last night�s Mets game. 

Okay, David is asleep on my chest and drooling; I�m grousing about our inability to hold a lead in the ninth inning.

The only warning to the Sisterhood�s arrival is a chorus of �ohhs� which causes me to jerk in surprise.

Which wakes up David.

Who starts to cry.

�Shh,� I drop the paper and begin rubbing circles on his back. �Don�t let these mean women scare you.�

CJ starts to get indignant, but stops when David ceases his whimpering.

�They�re just jealous,� I whisper to him. �They all want a guy as handsome as you to take home.�

The snort comes from Margaret.

�Give me the baby, mi amour.� CJ holds her arms out.

I reluctantly give him over, but not before admonishing CJ to keep him warm. 

�Now, you out.� Bonnie orders.

�Um, can we wait for Donna to get out of the shower?� I�m suddenly very nervous about leaving my son alone with the Sisters. 

Not just because he�s starting to fuss in CJ�s arms.

�Josh, how many women are in this hospital room right now?� Ginger pipes up.

�More than I care to think about.�

�I think we can handle a dayold infant,� Margaret asserts.

CJ looks like she�s beginning to have second thoughts.

�Okay, okay.� I hold my hands up in defeat and slip out the door.

***

What on earth is going on out there? 

I can hear David crying, but I can�t hear Josh talking to him. 

In the past 24 hours, we�ve learned our son is fascinated by the sound of his father�s voice and will almost instantly stop crying if Josh speaks to him.

I�m food; Dad is comfort.

Weird if you ask me, but it�s working for the moment.

Pulling sweats and a tshirt on, I open the bathroom door to find my room full of the Sisters.

�Donna?� Bonnie is sitting on the edge of the bed trying to calm my baby.

�Where�s Josh?� I take David from her. He throttles back from wailing to whimpering for me, but it is clear, to me at least, he wants his daddy.

Margaret bites the bullet and opens the door. Josh evidently didn�t go far, because he�s back in a flash.

David snuggles against Josh�s chest and the whimpers fade away as Josh starts telling him about how much the Mets suck this year.

�I am sickened by this,� Carol announces.

�Me, too,� I mutter.

�We brought gifts, Josh, so just sit there and keep your mouth shut,� Zoey glares at Josh before he can make a smart assed comment.

Did they ever bring gifts: clothes, toys, a subscription to a diaper service, stuff for me and the promise of babysitting services from Zoey.

All in all, a pretty good haul.


End file.
